Of Mice and Kings
by shirleypositive72
Summary: Crowley is intrigued. That can't be good. Rating may change, I'm not sure.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a little story about our favorite King. Short chapters as they come to me. Trying to finish up some other stories, but the words were tasting stale in my mouth. So here's a new flavor.**

"Ah, you're awake."

Upon hearing the newly familiar voice, my skin tightens into goosebumps and my nerves thrum. It can't be. Maybe it isn't. Who else, though? I know this voice, and it's not the guys. Neither Sam nor Dean nor their half-crazy angel pal have a British accent. So it has to be him. And where are they, the boys? Where am I?

"Where am I?" I figure the best way to get answers is to ask.

"Hospital, love. So many fractures, blood all over, flash burn to the eyes. Nasty business."

"Flash burns?"

"Someone had a welding torch. Very inventive."

"Which hospital?"

"An uncomfortable one. My delicate ass has fallen asleep more than once this evening."

"You're not going to tell me where, are you?"

"No. Too much information will not help me, and I'm not interested in helping you."

"What are you interested in, Crowley?"

"You knew me even though you can't see me?"

"You made an impression."

"Oh, a good one, I hope."

"A lasting one."

"You aren't scared, are you? Not nervous at all. So brave, little mouse. Isn't that what he called you? Dean did? Mouse."

"Yeah, he calls me Mouse. I can get into any place."

"Cute. Mouse, Moose, and Squirrel. It's a fairytale forest."

"I'm no fairy princess, Crowley. Why are you here? What do you want?"

"Ah ah ah, you first. Why aren't you scared?"

I sigh. We could banter and be glib, or I can just fucking answer him. I'm too tired and in too much pain to stay funny. That shit's hard.

"Mouse, I'm waiting."

"If you were going to kill me, I'd be dead. If you were going to torture me, we wouldn't be in this hospital. If you were holding something or someone over my head, you wouldn't wait to tell me. I'm not scared of you, Crowley, because I have no reason to be at the momnet."

"Smart girl."

"But I am nervous about why you could possibly be sitting in that chair next to my bed like a concerned uncle. Am I bait?"

"You really are a smart girl."

"And?"

"And, yes. That's part of it. I want to see if if those denim wrapped nightmares will rush to your bedside."

"They won't."

"They won't, eh?"

"No, " I say, and the thought makes me laugh. "I'm not all that important to them."

"Really?" He shifts in his plastic chair, angles closer to me.

"Really."

"I thought I detected a hint of a special bond between you and the short Winchester."

"I'm going to tell him you said he's short."

"Deflecting, Mouse."

"We fuck, Crowley. Every now and then, we scratch a mutual itch."

"He comes back?"

"Yeah. Thanks," I snap. The king of Hell just offended me.

"And you go back for more? Even with all of the trouble he tows along with him wherever he goes."

"Yeah." I never really thought about it.

"He's that good?" he asks me with a devilish smile.

"Yeah."

"Ever give Moose a ride?"

"What's the other part, Crowley?" I ask, choosing to ignore the touchy question. Never admitting that out loud to anyone.

"What?"

"You said my being bait was part of why you're here. What's the other part?"

"Sharp and persistent. Annoying."

"Speak fast. I'm so tired."

"It's the painkillers. Sleep, little Mouse. I'll be here when you wake."

I close my eyes, knowing he's telling the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

You still here?" I croak when I wake, wondering if it's morning or night. My eyes are still covered, but I sense someone beside me. Hunter's senses, I guess.

"Of course, I am. I'm a demon of my word."

"Salesman," I mutter.

"King," he insists.

"Why are you here, King?"

"Your voice is awful, lovely. Have some water," he offers, and I hear him pouring a cup himself.

"Crowley."

"Mouse." He places the cup in my hand.

I do drink some. He's right, after all. My throat is killing me, so scratchy and bruised from a claw or fist. I can't remember.

"How are your eyes?"

"They burn less. Why do you care?"

"I don't. Only curious of their color. Didn't notice before. Brown, yes? Never blue, not with that brown hair and olive skin. Italian? Or French?"

"Tell me or leave!" I snap in frustration.

"Can't leave now, love. I think I'm very near to closing a very beneficial deal with the night charge nurse. She's quite got her heart set on her Yorkie winning the local dog show. Got her priorities straight, that one."

Struggling to get any answer at all, I ask desperately, "Am I your prisoner? Why? What can I possibly offer you that you couldn't just take? What is your reason, Crowley?"

"Dean."

"I told you-"

"I don't care what you told me. There's something there. You have some hold on him. On _Dean Winchester_. I saw it, little Mouse. And that is certainly out of the ordinary. That makes you extraordinary, I'd venture to say."

"I am so far from exraordinary."

"Squirrel disagrees."

"No, he doesn't," I admit quietly both to Crowley and to myself.

"I want to know what makes you so special. You . . . intrigue me. That doesn't happen often. Take the compliment, girl."

"You're so wrong. I can't deliver him to you, you know."

"Beside the point, Mouse."

"What happens to me when I'm better, when I can see and they say I can leave?"

"I've not yet decided."

"Not comforting."

"What's your name, Mouse? The name Mummy used when she caught you being naughty. The name Daddy called you when he tucked you in at night."

"I don't have a name like that."

"What's that?"

"I'm a twenty-four year old Hunter, Crowley. Do you really think my life ever included being tucked in at night, surrounded by a loving nuclear family?"

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"Your name," he demands. The King is losing his patience with my stalling and defiance. He is, after all, accustomed to being obeyed.

Deciding it is probably safer to keep him happily on my side, I tell him a name I've all but forgotten. "Nina. My name was Nina."

"Was?"

"There was once a girl who didn't carry a knife, didn't sleep with a gun under her pillow. That girl didn't sleep with men who forgot her once she got dressed. She didn't need to be able to slip into buildings under the door. Only Mouse is left. Nina died a long time ago."

"No, darling. No, I think Nina might be why I'm here."

**A/N: Don't own SPN. This story is mine, though. Drop a line and let me know if it sucks or not. What doesn't suck is "Road Trip" by Whackadoo. Check it out!**


	3. Chapter 3

"You want to be very careful with her, doctor."

The bandages are coming off, and, damn, the tape hurts when it pulls out eyebrows. Crowley is displeased with my physician when I let out a very non-badass yelp.

"Now, Mr. Crowley, your niece is just fine. Aren't you, Miss McLeod?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Really _Uncle_." It's almost laughable.

Almost.

Because at my next flinch, Crowley is out of his seat. When he is up close and personal with the doctor, he says very slowly, "You will be very careful with her, Doctor. Are we clear?"

I'm a little afraid fro the doc. I'm not the only one. He seems a bit concerned himself.

"Yes, sir. I will be gentle as I can, Mr. Crowley."

"On with it, then," the King of Hell says, flicking his hand as though he didn't just scare the piss out of the man.

Switching back to his professional manner, Dr. Finney continues removing the bandages over my eyes. "Time to see how well you've healed, young lady. This will take a little time. I'm going to remove the gauze layer by layer. When I remove the last of the bandages, keep your eyes closed until I say so. Your eyelids will be stuck together, and you will be very sensitive to the lights. I'll dim them for a few minutes to lessen the shock for you. Ready?"

"Very," I confirm. I need to know if I'm blind.

The process is unnerving, but eventually I'm given the okay to open my eyes. And I see.

"Thank God."

"Indeed," Crowley drawls. Lounging back into the uncomfortable chair, he asks, "Can she leave?"

"If she lived nearby, I would say yes, but as it is, I would like to keep her a day or two more. Just to be certain there is no infection, no complications."

"I expect there to be no complications," said with a raised brow and low tone.

"I don't believe there will be problems, but she sustained serious injuries."

"Hey. She's right here," I pipe up.

"Sorry, Miss McLeod. Use these drops if your eyes feel dry. Call a nurse if they begin to burn. I will see you in this evening." And he leaves.

"I was right," Crowley says.

"What?"

"Your eyes are brown. Quite lovely."

I stare at him; he's the first thing I've seen in focus for days. I catch the smirk on his face and turn away. For a moment he looks disappointed.

"What do you see, little Mouse?"

I shake my head. "What do _you_ see?

"I think I see you, NIna. In all your vulnerability."

"Don't call me that."

"Does Dean know your name, Little Mouse?"

"No. Maybe. I'm sure he's forgotten."

He seems genuinely surprised when he asks, "So you told him?"  
"Don't you generally introduce yourself when meeting someone?"

"How long have you been Mouse?"

"Since he called me that."

"How. Long."

"Four years, give or take."

"Long time to be anonymous."

"I like it that way."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Don't own SPN or Crowley. But I do own a little crush on the King of Snark. Don't tell Dean.**

I seem to be trapped in this bizarre loop of sleeping then waking then having witty cat-and-Mouse conversations with the King of Hell. Not everyday that these things happen, even to a Hunter like me. And I have to admit, after nearly a week, I'm kind of ready for this to be over so I can get back to my life. Such as it is.

"They said you're sprung, darling."

"I am?" I ask my uncomfortable companion.

"No infection, perfect vision in those pretty eyes. The small burns on your lovely face have healed. The breaks are on their way to setting well. The skittish sawbones feels you are ready to be released into the loving arms of your family." At this remark, he opens his arms and smiles. But the smile is tight and not altogether convincing.

"But?"

"But what, Little Mouse?"

"Crowley, where will I be going when I am released?"

"I haven't decided yet, love."

"Why? They haven't come to break me out of your nefarious clutches. I told you the Winchesters don't find me all that important."

"Yes, well. I'm not sure I'm done with you yet.' He gets up and turns his back on me, hands clasped behind him. "You see, my bestie up and left. And we were having such fun."

"Dean? Is that who you mean? Your bestie. Really?"

"You rather remind me of him, Nina. Naughty and hard exterior, a bit of half remembered innocence peeking through. Such an excitingly confused personality to muck about with."

"You're going to hold me hostage so that I can be your playmate?"

"I've been rather lonely as of late. It can be solitary and boring at the top. There aren't any real challenges anymore. Even during the angel war, the bloody goody-goodies only fought amongst themselves. There are no surprises. No fun. You, Mouse, are both."

"Crowley, we aren't friends."

"Come now, you know you love me. I'm nothing if not lovable."

"Crowley-"

"You've enjoyed our sparring. I know you have. I have, too. You're a smart girl, pretty, funny and sarcastic. I'm a handsome bastard and the king of banter, as well as Hell. We make a fine pair."

"Pair of what, exactly? What are you offering me?" I'm not sure I want to know.

He walks over to me. Stalks, really. He puts his hand on my unbandaged cheek, gently, and I let him.

"I'm offering you what he won't, Nina."

"And what is that, Crowley?" Comes a familiar voice. A voice that would have welcome just five minutes ago.

Now, I just don't know.

"Dean. Long time."

"Not long enough, Crowley. Thanks for taking care of my friend."

Stepping away from me with an inscrutable look, Crowley turns to face his frenemy. "Someone had to. She was left lying on the bloody floor, blind and broken. Squirrel, " he says with a nasty sneer, "you should take better care of your toys."

"She can take care of herself," I interject. "I'm right here, you know. And I don't need either one of you."

**AN: Reviews are nice and make Crowley smile. Kinda.**


	5. Chapter 5

"He came for you after all. Doesn't that please you, Mouse? See, you do matter to them," Crowley coos with absolutely zero sincerity.

"Fuck you, Crowley," Dean snaps, moving further into the room to give Sam room as the younger Winchester enters.

"I have a deal for you, love. You have a broken soul, Nina. So much like his," Crowley says in front of everyone.

"Hey," Dean says, offended, trying to get his attention.

"He must see himself in you," my erstwhile companion continues, eyebrow raised at the thought. "Broken but still so damn _good_. He hides it behind booze and sex, his guilt, his truly annoying need to save the world. You hide behind a name that isn't yours, Little Mouse."

"What are you pushing, Crowley?" I ask quietly, not sure I'll be able to turn down an offer anymore.

"Me. A chance to repair that soul. A chance to be important. A life where you really matter."

"I can't."

"I'm offering you _power_, girl. You'd sit at the side of the _King_!" he shouts, trying to make me hear him.

"You knew from the beginning," I whisper. "I always go back."

He steps closer, meets my eyes, threads a hand through my hair. Sam and Dean stir, but I raise a hand to still them.

"Use those beautiful eyes, Little Mouse. Use them to see what's really in front of you. You get nothing out of it. You get nothing in return from him."

"I do. Sometimes I do," I reply, hoping he'll believe it even when I don't.

"You deserve so much better, sweet Nina," says the demon, looking deflated at my rejection.

"No, I really don't," I tell him, knowing the truth of it. I'm no one. "And my name is Mouse. Nina is dead."

"Yes," Crowley sighs, "I suppose she is."

"Let's go, Mouse," Dean instructs.

"You be good to her, or I'll bring Hell down on you, Dean. Former besties or not," the King of Hell warns in a voice that leaves no doubt he means every word. Facing me again, he speaks not _to_ me, but promises, "And when she's ready, I'll open the gates for her."

And with one final piercing look, more honest and open than any I've seen from him, he snaps his fingers, and is gone.

"Well, that was a lost opportunity," Dean admonishes. "You could have called us, Mouse. We could have been better prepared."

"Sorry, Dean."

"You okay? You have a place to stay?" Sam asks.

"Yeah," I say quietly.

"Good. So, if he comes back, give us a call."

"I will."

"Well, we'll see you soon," Dean says as he gives me a squeeze on the unbroken arm and a kiss on the cheek. Not the rescue I'd envisioned.

I hop off the bed and walk slowly over to the mirror on the wall above the sink in this suddenly lonely hospital room. I'm battered and beaten and bruised. But Crowley said I was beautiful. What did the king really see? Will anyone else ever see it? There isn't even anyone around to look.

_Use those beautiful eyes, Little Mouse. Use them to see what's really in front of you._ Y_ou deserve so much better._

I sigh. I shake my head. I decide.

"Crowley? Crowley, I'm ready."

"Nina, darling, I thought you'd never call."

And with a snap, we're gone.

**AN: Thanks for reading! Crowley was fun to write. Reviews make you beautiful in Crowley's eyes.**


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